


Momentary Breakdowns and Beginnings

by Sebe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Gen, M/M, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebe/pseuds/Sebe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Whenever Scott begins to buckle under the pressure of being an alpha, having people depend on him, Stiles is there to pull him back up, be the solid ground. Derek doesn’t always understand that bond, but he’s constantly awed by it and sometimes a bit envious.</p>
<p>Stiles and Scott's friendship. Derek POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentary Breakdowns and Beginnings

Author’s Notes: Drabbly piece. Set in 3B when Derek’s back. He sees the bond between Stiles and Scott and can’t help but think how it would go if he had a solid, safe place like that. Sterek heavily implied. Scott and Stiles friendship/bromance.

Bonus: I’m sure most everyone knows it, but feel free to say what Stiles’ words are from ^_^

Summary: Whenever Scott begins to buckle under the pressure of being an alpha, having people depend on him, Stiles is there to pull him back up, be the solid ground. Derek doesn’t always understand that bond, but he’s constantly awed by it and sometimes a bit envious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Momentary Breakdowns and Beginnings

 

A stranger looking in may have thought Scott was being dramatic. Derek didn’t. Better than anyone else, he knew what it was to feel the pressure of being an alpha, being responsible for every injury and death, all the times everything went to hell. It was too much to do alone, but there was never any other choice. Here, in the wake of one of the more formulaic, almost expected skirmishes with a rival pack, all of that weight seemed to finally slam down on the shoulders of the new True Alpha and the force of it buckled his knees.

Derek watched the fanged teenager on the floor with a sad sense of camaraderie and resigned helplessness. There was nothing for him to say or do here. Nothing that could be made better. All Derek could do was stay, so he did.

“I can’t! I can’t, it’s too much!” Scott keened, hands over his ears. Stiles was suddenly there and Derek wasn’t all that surprised. Any cry of pain or distress from Scott usually managed to reach Stiles, despite an obvious lack of heightened hearing, and send the teen running. It was something of a mystery that Derek didn’t think he’d ever solve; a product of the bond between the two. Unwavering loyalty against reason. Derek could grasp that in concept, just not practice. He’d never had that with anyone not blood. He still didn’t.

Derek didn’t know why he tasted a lie in his own thought, but this wasn’t a time to linger in his head.

Stiles was a bit worse for wear; rumpled and a bit bloody, still clutching the bat which had proved more useful than any of them had ever thought it would be (than he would be). Stiles brushed past Derek, not taking his eyes off his crumpled friend. He pushed his bat toward Derek, not breaking stride, knowing the other would grab it. There was something warm in that small moment. It was quick, understated, but it was bright in his chest like flash fire, that little show of trust. Interactions with Stiles always felt like that. 

Anyone else, Derek would have reached out to stop, unsure of how Scott could react in this moment. But it was Stiles. And if Derek knew anything, it was that Scott would die before hurting Stiles. Crouching down next to his friend, he ducked his head to catch Scott’s eyes. Stiles had the unique ability to be worried, terrified, but never show it. He was using that skill now.

“I can’t be an alpha. I can’t do this.” Scott choked.

It was quiet for moments, but Stiles didn’t move. There was nothing unsure about him, all confidence and a clear desire, need to help. This wasn’t the sarcastic teenager or the contrite son who worried so much over his own perceived failings that there were times it literally stole the air from his lungs. No, this was the Stiles that saw his friend hurting and pushed everything aside to make it better. 

But Derek knew this was out of the human's range. Alphas stood on their own. There was nothing for it, nothing to be done or said. But that had never stopped Stiles.

“…What do you do when you can’t walk any further?” Derek furrowed his brow. Scott seemed similarly confused for long seconds, before recognition sparked in his eyes. “What do you do?” Stiles prompted again.

Scott swallowed, raised his head a bit to better meet Stiles’ eyes.

“…You crawl. But Stiles-“

“And when you can’t crawl?”

Scott looked up at his best friend, searching for something. Derek didn’t understand what they were doing, but it was working. Whatever Stiles was doing, whatever memory he was triggering, it was calming Scott down. Finally, Scott scoffed, choked off with a sob, but he was smiling a bit.

“You’re gonna carry me?”

“Long as I need to.”

And there it was. Derek couldn’t help but think that if he’d had anything like this, like what Scott has, he may have just been the alpha he’d wanted to be. Strong, loyal, loved. 

Stiles was helping Scott up off the ground, supporting most of his weight. After making sure his friend was steady on his feet, Stiles looked up and directly at Derek, meeting his eyes in that unnervingly sincere way of his that he only let show on occasions where he was so exhausted, he couldn’t hide anything. Or when he was truly relaxed, trusted and trusting. With the dark bruises under his eyes, Derek was sure it was the first one and bit down the flash of disappointment. 

As Stiles gently coaxed Scott to start moving, Derek crossed the space between them, shouldering up under Scott’s other side. He glanced over at Stiles.  
“Alright. Let’s go.”

Stiles smiled at him briefly, grateful for the help, before his attention turned back to Scott. 

“Come on, man. You heard Big Bad. Let’s get moving.” Derek was jealous. He recognized that. Scott had someone to help him, hold him up, keep him level. Scott had trust and loyalty and someone to care about him. 

Scott had Stiles. 

Scott was lucky.

As they moved forward, Derek’s arm nudged up against Stiles’ as they supported the alpha between them. Derek meant to pull away. He did. But he didn’t. Seconds later, Stiles’ thumb was pressed to his arm, just insistent enough so it couldn’t be taken as anything other than intentional. And Derek didn’t move. Didn’t want to move.   
He wanted to have this. He wanted to keep this- him.

The warmth, ferocity, the loyalty and chaos, the madness of it all, of everything that was Stiles Stillinski, he wanted that more than he wanted to breathe. When Derek readjusted his hold enough that he could wrap his fingers loosely around Stiles’ wrist, and the boy didn’t pull away, Derek thought maybe, there was no reason he couldn’t have those things that Scott had. Maybe more.


End file.
